Chapter 32 #2
She wore dress pants and a blouse under a long green trench coat that rippled in the breeze as she approached. She must’ve come from the service.
His muscles protested as he pushed his door shut. His reckless pace at the gym could’ve injured him, and then what would he do with his spinning mind?
Blaze stopped on the other side of the hood with her head at an assessing tilt. The wind flirted with the ends of her hair, and the sun added highlights. “Not checking your phone?” Kindness, not recrimination, carried her voice.
He patted his pocket. He had left the phone in the car during his workout and hadn’t touched it since. “Purposely avoiding it.”
“Ah.”
He couldn’t keep his head in the sand forever, though, so he retrieved the device from the center console. Then he escorted Blaze to the house and held the door open for her. “I should’ve called you.”
She stepped into the entryway. “Ditto. I’m sorry.”
Her simple response soothed the hurt he’d felt when she hadn’t reached out. His eyes misted with unexpected emotion, so he turned away to shut the door. “Me too.”
He ushered Blaze into the living room of his fixer-upper. A couch, TV, bookshelf, and coffee table filled the room.
“You seem like a dog person.” Blaze reached out, as if looking for a head to pet. “A black lab, maybe.”
“I thought about it. My parents had dogs when I grew up. I like them, but I’m not home a lot and they …” He cleared his throat. “Pets never seem to live forever.”
Blaze studied him. “None of us do.”
Pressure built behind his eyes. He lowered himself onto the couch and rubbed his forehead. Blaze’s coat rustled, the couch dipped, and her hand rubbed his back.
“I don’t know why I’m upset,” he said toward the floor.
“No?”
“I don’t know why I’m this upset.” Liquid collected in his eyes. He managed to blink it away. “It’s not like there weren’t signs they would fire me. I guess I didn’t really think God would allow it. I keep wracking my brain, but I can’t figure it out.”
She rested her forearm along his spine, drawing circles with her fingertips between his shoulder blades. “I don’t know what to do with it either.”
He sat back and took her hand. “It’s like, either they don’t know God, or they don’t care. How else could we come from such different places?”
“I don’t know. The people on the board have been believers much longer than me, and I guess I had everyone up on pedestals.
” Her hands tightened until her knuckles paled.
“But we’re all just human, aren’t we? The board included.
And humans can be fully convinced even when they’re only partially right, especially when it comes to a God whose ways aren’t our ways.
” Her grip loosened as she spoke, but tension built in him.
“You think the board was partially right?”
Her eyes and mouth rounded like a student caught bad-mouthing a friend. She wet her lips. “I don’t know what to think. These are people I trusted. I mean, I believe Eric could be off base, but how did he convince the whole board?”
Even she wasn’t on his side?
He rose. Paced. Faced her. “The fact that they did something unbelievable doesn’t make them partially right.
I was trying to reach the youth spiritually.
That should’ve been the board’s focus too.
Especially Eric’s. If he believes what I believe about eternity, how could he lead a crusade against me when one of my biggest concerns was his son?
What’s going to become of Carter now? I just don’t”—he clenched a fist and released it—“get it. Why did God allow this? And what am I supposed to do now?”
Her mouth tipped. “All you can do is trust God and stay faithful. Extend grace.”
“Extend grace as Eric runs the church into the ground? This whole thing is just—” He growled. “Evil isn’t supposed to win like this, but the whole leadership board is blindly following Eric because of money and numbers. How can they call themselves Christians?”
She worked her hands together. “Those are some pretty extreme accusations.”
“If the shoe fits.”
“Can’t there be something in the middle? Like, maybe firing you was wrong, but maybe there’s more to the story. And maybe you could’ve done some things differently too.”
“I could’ve fought harder and sooner. Maybe looped in a few key people from outside the leadership board to help talk sense—”
She shook her head with quick jerks. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay….”
“You’re …” She opened her hand like she was waiting for a the right words to land there.
Slowly, her fingers curled into a fist. “You’re assuming the worst of them and acting like Carter’s eternity and the future of the church depend on you.
Like it’s your way or the highway to hell, but does it have to be that extreme?
I do think Eric’s off base, but you’re not perfect either.
And you said it yourself. God allowed this, so he’s still involved, right? ”
In theory. He knew the sarcasm was wrong. God was always involved, even when Anson didn’t understand what He was up to. Even when Anson was facing a critique from the one person he’d hoped would comfort him.
“Which of my imperfections do you think justified firing me?”
“It’s not that I think their decision is justified, it’s just, take care of the log in your own eye first, right?”
“The imperfection is an entire log now?”
Color rose in her cheeks. “I’ve wondered how in the world to share my testimony the way you shared yours. So neat and tidy. Mine’s not like that, and maybe yours isn’t meant to be either. Maybe you would’ve gotten through to Carter and others if you’d told them about your brother.”
“I was fired because I didn’t talk about Gury?”
She lifted her hand and shook her head. “I’m just saying, if the board’s human, maybe you are too.
Maybe you could’ve handled the ministry differently while you had it.
You were concerned about the kids’ spiritual well-being, but even you put limits on what you’d do for them, didn’t you?
Why did you decide to keep Gury a secret?
Did you think it would glorify God? Or are you ashamed to admit you kept secrets for him, as if we don’t all have regrets that need forgiveness?
Isn’t God’s grace enough for all of us?”
Guilt sizzled as it rained on the flames of his anger. He’d suppressed impulses to share about Gury, but he hadn’t thought those came from the Lord. What if they had?
Blaze plucked her coat from the armrest where she’d laid it.
She was leaving? He hefted his reluctant body to stand between her and the door. “Why are you angry with me?”
She cocked her head. “The more I think about your silence, the worse it seems. You’ve lived among these people most of your life without showing the courage to be vulnerable.
Why? So you can look better than us?” Her eyes glinted, tears lining her lashes.
“Maybe with me, you can own up to things and still feel superior because I’ve got a much longer track record of messing up. ”
He opened his mouth but found no words. One of the things he loved about Blaze was her graciousness. Was he really so far off base that he deserved this attack? “Is that really what you think of me?” His voice turned raw.
“I don’t know, Anson.” She pulled on her coat and cinched the belt.
He dug his fingers into his own shoulder, unsure how they’d ended up here.
Without meeting his eyes, she motioned him to move aside.
Responses might trump reactions, but he could muster neither. He opened the door. She left without another word. A blessing, because the ones she’d already thrown would be stuck in his head for days.